


Invisible Lines

by strawberijammie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Jealousy, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pining, Post-Time Skip, oihina brazil fling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:16:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberijammie/pseuds/strawberijammie
Summary: He suspected that maybe Atsumu didn’t want to admit that Hinata had grown up. After all, if Hinata was an adult, that invisible line that they always made sure not to cross would suddenly become much easier to ignore.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 20
Kudos: 499





	Invisible Lines

**Author's Note:**

> ok, I haven't fell this hard for a ship in a while, so I thought I should contribute to the fandom somehow  
> I haven't wrote fanfiction in like 5 years and I only write after downing excessive amounts of alcohol, so please excuse my shit writing and typos
> 
> P.S. oihina brazil fling is canon, that is just a fact  
> P.S. 2 rated m cuz if you squint there's a tinyyyyyy bit of smut (but like not really)  
> P.S. 3 oikawa/atsumu interaction was slightlyyy inspired by @atsuhinas art

Hinata wasn't a child anymore.

He wasn't as naive as he was when he as a teenager.

But he knew his bubbly personality, the one that made him famous during high school, still made people see him in a certain way.

To be fair, he was a cheerful and kind friend, the type of person who was able to connect with so many players, both those in his team and those across the court. But he often wondered if his hyperactivity and over-excitement still made others look at him like he was something to be protected.

He certainly didn’t feel like needed to be sheltered anymore.

He was more perceptive of others and of himself, something that helped him in some situations and frustrated him in others.

And he definitely felt frustration during his time with the Black Jackals, specially when a particular teammate of his would eye or touch him for a second too long.

It wasn’t the flirty tone that annoyed him—it was the fact that he also couldn’t help but notice that this certain teammate would never dare to cross a specific line. It was just a second too long, but never more than that. Just teasing smiles, never concrete actions.

Hinata still laughed out loud, joked around, and ran around with the same energy he had when he started high school seven years back. But while some things didn’t change, others did.

And those lingering fingers on his skin made him wish even more things would change as well. 

\---

Hinata discovered a lot of things while he was in Brazil.

He found out he liked how the sand felt under his feet. He realized he didn’t like when the wind picked up at the beach. He discovered he liked to meditate. He even gained a little more appreciation for the times he spent alone and in silence.

He also discovered that, even after everything he had overcome, there was still much more he had to conquer.

To him there was something intoxicating about overcoming hardships—something that made all the dark times become sources of strength again. He knew this cycle was part of his nature, but Brazil consolidated this personal belief even further.

By the time he was fifteen, Hinata thought he already knew all about hardships. He was short _and_ he wanted to be a volleyball player after all. The best of all players even. He had struggled to get anyone to play him during middle school. He struggled to protect his place in the court even if for a few minutes. And while high school slowly gave him more opportunities to participate in the sport he loved so much, he still had to prove, time and time again, that he deserved to fly.

He knew how to overcome adversity—he _liked_ overcoming it—and improving himself each day gave him a sense of pride.

Going to Brazil, however, proved to be a more humbling experience than anything he had ever faced before. He felt the distress of isolation from everything and everyone he knew. 

It was hard, borderline _suffocating_. But the hardships he faced gave him the motivation to triumph over them one more time.

Besides, new habits and an appreciation for his own internal strength weren’t the only discoveries he made when living abroad. While faced with a new world, intrigued by a culture previously so foreign to him, and compelled to fight his own loneliness to make new connections, Hinata let himself explore things much different from volleyball. He found out, to his own surprise, that other things in life could give him pleasure and joy.

The first real conversation he had with Pedro almost made him feel the same way his first time on the court did. It was new and _exciting_. He messed up a lot, he was aware of that. But even the tiniest correct move he made, every correct word he used, was enough to make him want to try harder. He loved the feeling of improving each day, each time, opening new doors for himself.

And despite having crossed the globe for volleyball, his first and true love, he slowly began to understand that love—or at least pleasure—wasn’t restricted to sports. He was forced to face the fact that, yeah, even he could think about other things besides volleyball. The madness. 

He slowly discovered that soft touches, quiet whispers, and deep kisses could feel really good. The pleasure was undeniably different from the type that came from spiking a really good toss. It was also different from the joy of making Brazilian friends or getting better at a difficult language.

As Hinata spend more and more time abroad, he gradually learned that life was not as simple as it seemed when he first saw the little giant on TV. At that moment, he thought, I want to spike a ball like that. And for a long time that was all wanted—it was all that mattered.

For a long time, all his ambitions, aspirations, and desires were solely connected to volleyball. That was how things were as far as he could remember, and for a while he thought that was how things would always be.

Until life become more complicated.

Maybe Brazil changed him, or maybe he just grew up, but he couldn’t deny things were different for his 22 year old self. He felt different.

Hinata began to understand that adult life had many distinct challenges, joys, and goals. He discovered that he could want different things, including wanting to be more than a volleyball player. He could want to be a friend, a good housemate, a role-model, a student. He could want to be someone desired and he could also desire others. And his devotion to one thing did not necessarily cancel out his passion for another.

What Hinata didn’t realize in Brazil though, was that the different things he loved could sometimes be in conflict with one another.

\---

“Shouyou-kun, ain’t that one too many?”

Hinata laughed as he took another beer from Bokuto’s fridge. The all too familiar situation had become quite amusing to him.

“I can hold my liquor, Atsumu-san. Thank you for your concern.” He wondered if Atsumu would ever be convinced that, one, Hinata could actually hold his liquor and, two, he genuinely enjoyed drinking on occasion. 

Atsumu frowned and rolled his eyes in response, his pouting face only making Hinata’s smile widen.

“You’re a professional athlete, you know. Ye gotta watch yer health,” Atsumu tried to argue, ignoring how his own slurred speech and thickening accent made his argument all the much weaker.

Hinata popped the bottle and turned back to Atsumu, smiling as bright as ever. “Don’t worry, Atsumu-san, it’s ok take a break once in a while. You know we are a responsible team.” 

And that was the truth. The Black Jackals wouldn’t put their careers and team victories in jeopardy just to have endless nights of empty fun. They all loved the game too much for that.

But they were _also_ human beings, not just volleyball players. So, once in a while, at the end of a tournament or after a particularly gratifying victory, the sportsmen would allow themselves to let go for one night. Mental health was as important as physical health after all, and if relaxing and celebrating with your teammates on occasion wasn’t self-care, then Hinata didn’t know what was. Previous lonely days made him appreciate these moments of camaraderie even more.

Everyone seemed to agree on that. If Atsumu’s foggy eyes and empty beer can in hand were any indication of it, he enjoyed these leisure moments just as much. 

And although it didn’t necessarily bother Hinata, Atsumu nagged him nonetheless. 

Hinata couldn’t shake the feeling that, out of all their teammates, Atsumu was the one who treated him like a child the most. In fact, it often seemed like he hated the sight of Hinata doing anything _remotely_ adult.

Maybe he was being over-protective—Hinata was the newest member of the team after all. And, if Hinata was being truly honest with himself, he didn’t necessarily dislike a protective Atsumu, and he specially didn’t dislike the attention he received from the setter.

Atsumu spent extra practice time with Hinata just to make sure their synchronization was perfect. He always checked in to make sure the opposite hitter never forgot his gear before a game. Atsumu even encouraged him every time Hinata messed up a serve.

But the more time passed, the more Hinata couldn’t help but feel that there was something more to their dynamic.

He nagged Hinata when he drank, but he didn’t nag anyone else in the team. He complained about inappropriate topics whenever people asked Hinata about past flings and night adventures, but when others offered their own stories, he couldn’t care less. Hinata was the youngest of the Black Jackals, but Atsumu’s caring and protective attitude felt a little too different from anything Atsumu had with their other teammates or anything Hinata had experienced with past volleyball partners.

And Hinata wasn’t naive anymore. He wasn’t in high school anymore.

He suspected that maybe Atsumu didn’t _want_ to admit that Hinata had grown up. After all, if Hinata was an adult, that invisible line that they always made sure not to cross would suddenly become much easier to ignore.

At times like those, when Atsumu was slightly tipsy, he would often forget to keep himself at a safe distance from Hinata. The whole situation made it slightly challenging for the younger player to try and remember why that line existed in the first place.

“Yer goin’ to be the death of me, Shouyou-kun,” Atsumu sighed, giving up on controlling Hinata’s alcohol consumption.

Hinata giggled, happy to finally leave that discussion. He was also tipsy and all he wanted was to change the subject to more interesting topics. He felt like Atsumu could pay more attention to the actual man in front of him instead of his beer bottle.

But another voice calling him unfortunately interrupted his conversation with his setter.

“Shouyou!” Someone called from the door. The voice was slightly familiar, but Hinata struggled to recognize it or identify the newcomer from the sea of heads that overcrowded Bokuto’s apartment.

Sakusa often complained that these celebrations became way too reckless—and _gross—_ for his taste. Too many of their old and new friends would show up, causing Sakusa to try and escape the parties as soon as possible.

So Hinata was surprised but also not completely shocked when he saw the Grand King walking up to him, arms open wide and a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Oikawa-san, long time no see!” Hinata replied excitedly and hugged him back. “I thought it would be a long time ‘till I saw you again! What are you doing in Japan?”

“Trying to get rid of me already, Shouyou?” Oikawa teased and both laughed. “I am visiting family, we have a break right now. I ran into Ushijima and he told me about the party. Of course he wasn’t coming but I thought it could be entertaining.”

Oikawa was as captivating as always. He was charming and handsome, and he reminded Hinata of the times in Brazil when he was leaning about things other than volleyball. It made him a bit light headed in a nice way. 

He knew he was acting giddy and coy, and he wasn’t sure if it was due to the alcohol or the unexpected encounter, but he didn’t think too much about it. Maybe the Brazilian flirtatious culture got to him a bit too much.

Oikawa also seemed happy to see him, but after a few minutes of carefree chatter, Hinata remembered he still had to introduce Atsumu. He had been neglecting his teammate to chat with the new guest.

He turned to Atsumu to finally try to include him in the conversation, but his smile faltered as he saw the not so happy expression his face. He didn’t seem to enjoy the Grand King’s arrival at all.

Hinata felt the tension in the air and tried his best to hide the blush that had spread across his face while chatting with Oikawa. “Atsumu-san, this is Oikawa-san. He plays for a pro Argentinian team. He is also from Miyagi.”

“Nice to meet you,” Oikawa extended his hand seemingly unfazed by Atsumu’s displeased face. “You play with Shouyou? Must be fun being his teammate.”

Atsumu expression became even more sour. Hinata knew Oikawa had to know who Atsumu was, and the devilish grin on his face only confirmed that suspicion. 

Atsumu didn’t seem pleased either way. He ignored the hand extended to him opting to nod instead.

“You should know him Oikawa-san, he is one of the best setters in the league,” Hinata said, genuinely proud to introduce his setter and hoping the statement would give Atsumu some validation and improve his mood. 

Oikawa’s naturally flirty personality wasn’t helping at all. And he especially didn’t help the situation by wrapping one of his arm around Hinata’s shoulder, smile never leaving his face.

“Oh yeah? I guess I do know him. He is below Tobio in the rankings, right?”

Hinata was truly happy to see the Grand King. He had nothing but good memories of their time in Brazil. But he also knew by looking at Atsumu’s face that this was not going to end well if he didn’t do something quickly. Atsumu’s was way too sensitive, too moody, and if their time playing together had taught Hinata anything, was that the setter’s fuse ran a bit on the short side.

Hinata’s palms started to get sweaty and he looked around for a way out of Oikawa’s tight embrace.

“Oikawa-san, what about a beer?” He moved to the fridge and grabbed a bottle for the guest. He was still set on enjoying the night and he did not like the growing tension in that small space between the fridge and the kitchen counters. 

“Thanks Shoyou.” Oikawa took the bottle from Hinata’s hand, promptly giving it a swig. He rested his elbows on the counter, looking as relaxed as ever. “Drinking a beer with you reminds me of our fun times in Brazil, am I right?”

Hinata was also tipsy and he could’t help but nod and smile at the memory. Probably a wrong move on his part.

“I still can’t believe we met at the other side of the world,” he replied. “You really helped me out when I was feeling down Oikawa-san.”

“I hope you didn’t feel too lonely after I left. My nights in Argentina definitely felt lonelier.” Oikawa feigned hurt as he teased.

Hinata’s blood rushed to his face, turning back to face Atsumu to assess the damage of that statement. The conversation was leading somewhere dangerous and Hinata needed to change topics.

But before he could think of anything to say to his setter, Oikawa moved from the counter, wrapped both arms around Hinata’s shoulders, and rested his face on top of his fluffy orange hair.

“Your hair is as soft as ever Shouyou,” he declared and Atsumu looked about to snap.

Moving his head a little to the side, Oikawa put his chin on Hinata’s shoulder. In a much quieter voice, he whispered in his ear, “That one in front of us seems pretty jealous Shouyou. It’s kinda fun.” 

Oikawa’s voice was laced with mirth and Hinata finally realized he was being overly flirty on purpose.

He didn’t know if it was because he was tipsy or because he secretly wanted to test his relationship with Atsumu just a tiny bit, but he didn’t shake Oikawa off right away.

Maybe seeing Atsumu that jealous made Hinata just a _little_ happy. But he soon realized that he probably let Oikawa take the joke too far.

Atsumu wasn’t in the same playful mood. Far from it, actually.

He didn’t look annoyed. He looked _furious_ , right hand clenching impossibly tight around his now deformed beer can. 

Before Hinata could try and salvage the situation, Atsumu slammed the can on the kitchen counter, turning his cold eyes to Oikawa and hissing through his teeth, “Omi-kun was right. This party is way too crowded. I think I’m not needed here anymore right, _Shouyou_? I’m sure the pro Argentinian player here can keep you company.”

Hinata froze in place, taking a few seconds to recover from the shock. He knew Atsumu was mainly directing his anger at Oikawa, but he had never been so cold towards Hinata. He was often mean to others, but never to him.

He felt himself sobering up and getting drunk at the same time as he tried to process what had just happened.

He could faintly hear Oikawa asking him, _what was that for_? and _Shouyou are you okay_? But Hinata’s mind was stuck on Atsumu’s hurt and distant eyes—the same eyes that would sparkle with Hinata’s every spike, every receive, every serve, every toss. It hurt so much to seem them _agonizing_. 

He was suddenly nervous. His own frustration with their relationship had made him take that stupid game too far.

He heard the apartment door shut loudly behind him, snapping out of his shocked state. He took a gulp of his beer and turned to face Oikawa.

“I’m okay Oikawa-san. I have to go talk to Atsumu-san.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and just swiftly excused himself. He tried his best to quickly pass through the sea of bodies on his way to the door to follow after Atsumu.

As he turned the doorknob and stepped into the hallway, he heard Bokuto yell from inside the apartment, “Let them be, it’s a team thing. Let’s drink!”

He silently thanked Bokuto’s often underestimated social tact.

\---

“Atsumu-san, wait up!” Hinata jogged down the street trying his best to catch up to the silhouette in front of him. His half-empty beer still in hand splashed everywhere on the sidewalk. He shivered in the chilly night breeze, bare arms unprepared for the weather.

Atsumu ignored him and kept walking forward with long strides. For the first time, Hinata felt annoyed at their height difference. The the whole tipsy jogging situation was mostly to blame though. If he was completely sober, he _knew_ he could keep up.

But in the middle of the night, a fast and irritated 187 cm Miya Atsumu was difficult to chase.

At least until the same fast and irritated—but not one hundred percent sober—Miya Atsumu tripped over a fallen tree branch hidden under the dim street lights.

 _Thank God for alcohol_ , Hinata thought hastily, almost immediately regretting it.

While rubbing his injured tow, Atsumu turned to face Hinata. He glared at his teammate, daring him to come any closer.

Despite Atsumu’s intimidating looks, Hinata chose to ignore the silent warning just like the setter had ignored his pleas to stop running.

Hinata walked towards him, the slightest reluctance in his steps.

“Are you okay, Atsumu-san?”

“I told ya _not_ to follow me,” Atsumu hissed back, expression tainted with pain, anger, and hurt.

For a second time that night, Hinata was taken aback by the unusually harsh tone.

Atsumu took the opportunity to let go of his throbbing toe, approach the building door, and fetch the keys from his pocket.

Realizing they had already reached Atsumu’s apartment, Hinata became more desperate to resolve the situation. He rushed towards Atsumu and put his hand on the door, trying to stop his teammate from going inside. “Please Atsumu-san, I don’t know why you rushed off or why you’re so upset with me. Let’s talk. _Please_.”

It was a half-truth. Hinata had some idea as to why Atsumu was upset. But whatever remained of the naive teenage boy inside of him was still too anxious to be _sure_. 

Atsumu sighed impatiently, walked past him and began to walk upstairs.

Surprisingly, though, he didn’t stop Hinata from following him.

Not wanting to miss this opportunity, Hinata quickened his steps to follow after his moody teammate. Afraid Atsumu was going to tell him off again, Hinata kept quiet as they walked—at least until they reached the second floor and Atsumu began turning the key to enter his apartment.

“Atsumu-san,” he began reluctantly as both passed through the front door. “Were you… upset because Oikawa-san was there? He is not a bad guy, you know. I spent time some time with him in Brazil and…”

“ _Stop_ ,” he cut Hinata’s rambling short. “Just stop”

Atsumu cursed under his breath, irritation still very much present in his voice. He crossed the hallway and began undoing his laces so violently Hinata wondered what the shoes had ever done to him. 

Afraid to initiate the conversation again, he chose to stare awkwardly at the stale beer in his hand.

Atsumu tossed his shoes aside , turned back to Hinata, and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” Atsumu finally said, making Hinata look up back at him. He really wished Atsumu was wearing one of his playful grins, he really couldn’t take the cold eyes anymore.

Hinata furrowed his brows in confusion. “T-that? _What_?”

He was starting to feel slightly irritated. It suddenly felt like all the experience he had gained in Brazil vanished into thin air. He was barely ever shy, but at that very moment he felt kind of stupid and small and angry.

What was _that_? He didn't understand the situation.

He also couldn’t figure out why Atsumu still hadn’t kicked him out of the apartment. If he was so pissed off, why was Hinata _still_ there? 

Atsumu let out an exasperated gasp, both hands quickly going up to cover his face and comb through his hair.

“Are you _serious_ , Shouyou-kun?”

Atsumu seemed to be at his limit. Hinata’s palms were sweating like crazy and he thought he was going to reach his limit any time soon too.

“I don’t want to talk about how _that_ guy was eating you up in front of everyone we know.”

“Oh.”

His face grew incredibly hot as Hinata’s irritation was quickly replaced by embarrassment. Atsumu’s gaze burned and he had to look away.

Hinata wasn’t an awkward person, he wasn’t shy. He also wasn’t a fifteen year old teenager anymore. But sometimes, while being stared down by Atsumu’s brown eyes, he felt like he was actually all of those things.

“Did you two hook up in Brazil?”

Hinata felt dizzy and his blood hushed even faster towards his face. He really wished Atsumu would stop talking, but it didn’t seem like this was going to happen.

His head was spinning, but he needed to collect his thoughts. Atsumu _knew_.

Then suddenly, Hinata realized something.

For someone who didn’t want to talk about Oikawa, Atsumu was sure talking about him a lot.

Finding some new comfort in Atsumu’s contradictory words, he looked back at him.

Atsumu wasn’t glaring at Hinata anymore—he was staring down and away as if any words voiced in his direction could physically hurt him. They probably could.

But Hinata couldn’t lie. Specially not to him. 

So he took a deep breath.

“Yeah. Just for a few times, but yeah.”

“Fuck.” Atsumu cursed, hands hiding his expression. “Why _him_?”

Hinata hated how he was still holding the damn beer bottle in his sticky hands. “I don’t know, it just happened. It was just a summer thing,” he answered honestly. Why did it even matter who Hinata shared a bed with in Brazil? Why was Atsumu so bothered by the fact that Oikawa was one of those people? Did it even matter who they were?

Feeling a bit more brave, he slowly approached Atsumu’s hunched figure.

That stupid line neither of them ever dared to cross had been driving him insane for months. And Hinata had a hunch he wasn't the only one going crazy over this.

He knew both of them loved the game. They wanted to play professional volleyball probably more than anything in the world. Crossing the line was risky, complicated.

But looking at his angry and jealous teammate, Hinata finally understood that maybe he wanted Atsumu just as much as he wanted volleyball.

He dropped his beer bottle on the floor before walking closer to Atsumu. He held Atsumu’s face with his hands, forcing the other to look at him again.

“Why does it matter, Atsumu-san?” Atsumu’s eyes weren’t cold anymore, they just looked hurt.

Atsumu narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, replying as if the answer was obvious.

“Because you are mine.”

Atsumu’s words rang heavy in the air and Hinata felt that the world had stopped moving for a second.

“Yeah,” he heard the words slip out of his own mouth.

The world began to spin much faster and suddenly Atsumu’s lips are on his.

Atsumu kissed him like he needed Hinata to breathe.

In the back of his mind, Hinata wondered if this was all just a dream or if he was actually kissing Miya Atsumu in that tiny hallway in the middle of the night.

His musings were soon interrupted by the weight of Atsumu’s body pushing against his, forcing Hinata to take small steps until his back softly thumped against the wall. One of Atsumu’s hands cupped his jaw as their lips moved together. His other hand grabbed onto Hinata’s waist, firmly holding him against the cold concrete.

Hinata fists balled up against the fabric of Atsumu’s shirt. He felt dizzy and incredibly hot. Everywhere Atsumu touched him—everywhere Atsumu’s lips touched—tingled. Hinata wouldn’t be surprised if his legs gave out any minute.

Atsumu sucked on Hinata’s lower lip before deepening the kiss. He held Hinata’s hips even tighter, fingers brushing against the skin under his shirt, and pressed their bodies together even harder.

Hinata couldn’t help but let a short gasp escape his mouth, breaking apart from Atsumu’s lips. He moved his hands to hold on to broad shoulders, now _very_ scared his legs could actually give out any second.

As he rested his head against Atsumu’s chest and tried to catch his breath, he heard an amused chuckle coming from above. Hinata really wanted to feel irritated at the fact that Atsumu found his disheveled state entertaining. He really wanted to be angry about the stupid fight.

He specially wanted to feel upset about the fact that it took them this long to get there.

But having Atsumu this close to him felt too good for Hinata to bother with any negative emotions.

After a minute of nothing but ragged breaths filling the silence, Atsumu nudged Hinata’s face back towards him. He first pressed his lips under Hinata’s jaw and then quickly moved to press them against his ear, making Hinata shiver at the feeling. 

“Shouyou-kun, stay with me tonight,” he whispered against Hinata’s ear while moving his hands from Hinata’s face to gently caress his hair.

Hinata thought he was going to melt.

“Okay,” was all that he managed to respond. His mind had gone blank— _nothing_ mattered more than that moment. Hinata wanted Atsumu more than _anything_.

Atsumu smiled at the positive response and rejoined their lips. He kissed Hinata softly first, slowly building up the intensity 

He then moved his lips to Hinata’s neck, tongue pressing at sensitive spots. Next Atsumu advanced to his collarbone while biting softly on the curve of his neck.

Atsumu lifted Hinata’s shirt as if he desperately needed more of his skin to taste and quickly moved on to leave a trail of kisses down Hinata’s chest and stomach.

Hinata knew he was blushing all the way to his neck, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the image of Atsumu’s lips passing through every inch of his body like Hinata was something to be savored.

Atsumu’s lips trailed lower and lower, each small nibble and flick of the tongue causing Hinata’s breath to hitch. Atsumu finally dropped to his knees, never interrupting his worship of Hinata’s skin.

It was only when Atsumu looked up from below to stare at Hinata with impossibly hungry eyes that the reality of the situation finally sank in.

And it made Hinata burn.

Atsumu unbuttoned his jeans and Hinata’s head fell back.

Hinata’s nights with others quickly flashed through his mind as he wondered if any of them had ever felt this electrifying, this good.

But as his own moans filled the air and rang through his ears, Hinata soon concluded that, no, nothing had ever felt nearly as good as having professional volleyball player Miya Atsumu down on his knees devouring Hinata like he was his last meal.

**Author's Note:**

> if you managed to get this far, congratssss you deserve a cookie
> 
> i'm not part of any other fandom atm, but i guess i have [twiiter](https://twitter.com/strawberijammie) now
> 
> P.S. 4 this is fiction, please don't hook up with your coworkers  
> P.S. 5 you cannot convince me hinata didn't have his fun in brazil... If you've been there, you know what the party scene is like.


End file.
